


You're The Only Place That Feels Like Home

by joannacamilley



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joannacamilley/pseuds/joannacamilley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon was the last person Bonnie ever wanted to be stuck with. But as the weeks pass, she finds her mind changing. [Canon until after 5x22]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just My Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning this for a little while and instead of typing the whole thing up as I wanted to do, I've decided to allow some reader interaction. This is the first chapter and the set up, but I want to write what YOU guys want. Leave a review telling me a specific scene or situation you want to see, or something I can base a chapter on.
> 
> My only rules are it has to mostly apply to canon. I'm trying to write this pretty close to what might have happened during the four months we didn't see Damon and Bonnie together. There will be smut though, of course, I just have to build up to it first. I'm hoping to write every day interactions that might look like a bunch of drabbles in one chapter, or maybe a big event that we haven't explored before.
> 
> Don't expect updates to be too frequent, maybe once a month or every two weeks depending on how inspired I am. I'm really excited for this story and I hope you are too, so please tell me what you want to see!

**Day 1**

The bed was so comfortable, Bonnie had a hard time opening opening her eyes. She snuggled into her pillow for a second before she froze. The pillowcase had lace trimming against a satin covering. She had never felt this before. She had never been in this bed before. Heart racing, she opened her eyes to a strange room. Half of her knew she had never been in here while another half knew it screamed something familiar. Her eyes roamed over the wooden walls, antique dresser, and old fashioned lighting.

Oh. That's right. This was in the Salvatore Boarding House.

How did she get here? While admittedly she had been in the Boarding House a lot, she had never been in a bedroom, let alone stayed the night (if you don't count that one sleepover with Elena and Caroline where they had ventured into Damon's bathroom).

Speaking of... Her eyes widened when she remembered what had happened. Damon dying. The spell to bring him back stopping before she could do just that. The Other Side collapsing. Bright white light. Then... What?

Then she woke up here in this bed. If Damon was with her, wouldn't he be dead? The spell that was placed over Mystic Falls undid magic, and being brought back to life as a vampire was definitely on its list of magical things to banish.

An unexpected pang of fear shot through her heart. Why would she care if he was dead? Maybe she was thinking of Elena, and of Stefan, the only two people she could think of who would really miss him. Maybe she had cared for him a bit. A tiny bit. A sliver. She'd allow him that.

Before she could dwell more on his possible demise, she got out of bed and ventured into the hallway. The entire house was silent, as far as her ears could tell anyway. Taking a guess, she took a left down the hallway and happily came across some stairs. As soon as she got into the foyer, she paused.

A familiar mess of black hair was just visible over the couch. "About time you came down, Bon Bon," he yawned as if talking to her was boring. "I was worried you'd get lost and I'd have to rescue you."

"Your house isn't that big and I'm not an idiot." She walked over to the other side of the couch and saw him nursing a bottle of bourbon. Typical.

"On the contrary..." he smirked up at her but didn't elaborate.

"How are you alive right now?" she wondered out loud, taking in his appearance. He looked just like he did just before the lights got bright. No gunshot wounds in sight.

"Oh, because we're in Mystic Falls? I never came back to life and it's not like I could die again from the Other Side," he shrugged and took another sip of his drink.

"Then what are we doing here?"

"Beats me. Your guess is as good as mine. Though you might be interested to know we're not where you think we are."

"We're not in your house?" She was getting more confused by the second.

"Oh, we're in my house. Just roughly nineteen years before the present."

"What are you even..." She trailed off when Damon threw a newspaper at her. Still confused, she looked up at the date to see May 10th, 1994 at the top. "So? This just proves you're a hoarder."

"Don't believe me? Turn on the radio, see what songs they play. Or try to find a cellphone anywhere."

"Seriously, Damon?" He was mocking her, he had to be. She knew this man could never be serious.

"While you're at it, go outside. See if you can find anyone else here." When she just stared at him with a raised eyebrow, he gestured towards the door. "Go on. While you were napping, Sleeping Beauty, I took a good look around. We're the only people for miles. You're the only heartbeat I've heard in hours, including animals."

Bonnie was starting to get scared now. Why would he take a joke for this long? "What are you trying to say?" she spoke slowly as she watched him closely.

Damon sighed and put his glass down. "What I'm saying is after the Other Side collapsed, we went somewhere else. Like an alternate universe or something where it's 1994 and we're the only ones around." He slumped back on the couch and added in a mumble, "Just my luck."

An alternate universe? As a witch, Bonnie had learned to keep an open mind to things over the past few years, but this was getting crazy. "But you're still a vampire?" she asked, wondering if she's still a witch. Or former witch. Would she have to be the anchor anymore if there wasn't the Other Side nor people to go there?

"As far as I can tell. I still have the super senses, speed and strength. Tell me, how does my face look?" He vamped out then, letting the veins crawl down his face while his eyes darkened.

Bonnie felt disgusted. Whenever she was reminded of what he was, all she could think about were all the people he has murdered. "As hideous as always," she sneered at him before looking away. She knew he wouldn't attack her, not like he did a few years ago, but he still scared her. He'd never know that though, not if Bonnie could help it.

"I see you're still the same judgy little witch," he chuckled and picked up his drink again. "You got any powers? Feel free to bust us out of here anytime."

Bonnie paused and searched for the telltale sign of energy within her. Before, it would always be present, flowing through her like blood did. At times she would be overflowing with it, but after a particularly hard spell she would feel her reserves depleting. Unfortunately, she couldn't feel any of the sparks of magic she usually did. She felt as empty as she had these past few months.

She couldn't answer Damon. She didn't want to face his scrutiny, his declarations of how  _useless_  she was because that was exactly how she felt. Instead, she shrugged and looked down at the paper. People were really fascinated with the death of Kurt Cobain.

"Come on, Witchy. Not an eensy teensy bit of magic in you? Not just enough to get me home? Elena's waiting. Tick tock. You don't want your friend to be in pain, now do you?"

"Damon, shut up for once," she rolled her eyes. "When are you gonna get over using me for your own objectives?"

"When you prove to have another use," he said as if it were obvious.

"What about you? How are you going to contribute to getting us back home?"

"Easy. I'm gonna sit here and nag you until you get your shit together," he gave her a grin before draining the rest of his glass.

Shaking her head, she pushed him out of her mind. She had to think of how to get them back. But where even were they in the first place? How could she find a way home if she didn't even know where they were starting? She started biting down on her nails and Damon recognized the worry radiating off of her.

"Bonnie," he sighed, reluctantly trying to be nice. He didn't want to scare her into not doing anything at all. "I'm sure we'll get back. At least we're not dead, right?"

"What a low bar. 'At least we're not dead'. That's the only good thing in this situation," she snorted.

"What, being with me isn't the highlight of your life?" he widened his eyes before smirking.

"You wish. Remind me again why Stefan saved you from that burning building a few years ago? And why I let him?"

"Because you can't live without me," he bumped his shoulder into hers before standing up. "Well, I'm beat. Some of us didn't sleep all day after our pseudo-death. I'm gonna find some bloodbags and pretend they're from living people."

"Are you going to miss that? Not being able to murder people?" she sent him a glare.

"There's still you," he winked before starting to walk in the direction of the staircase.

"Like you would ever sabotage the chance to get back to  _Elena_."

Damon considered her words before shrugging. "That's right. Oh well. I guess those days are a thing of the past."

"Do you know how disturbing it is to hear you talk about  _not_  being able to murder people as a bad thing?"

"You act as if you don't know me." He gave her a fake bow before disappearing to his room.

Bonnie settled back on the couch again. What had she done to deserve this fate that was arguably worse than death?


	2. Vampcakes

**Day 10**

Bonnie had spent the rest of the first day locked up in her room. Well, it wasn't technically her room. It was a room in the Boarding House she claimed because it was where she woke up the first day.

Back in the normal world, it wasn't  _too_  hard to tolerate Damon. Elena was always there as a buffer, to get her to back down before she could  _accidentally_  run a stake through his chest. But here, with no one to soften the communications between them, Bonnie found her patience running thin. He didn't even have to say anything to her. The arrogant air he carried wherever he went was enough of a reason to want to get away from him.

She had tried a few more spells. Basic nature ones. Filling up the sink and trying to make the water move. Ripping open a pillow case and trying to make the feathers float. Hell, she even tried to set some of the old books in the room on fire. Nothing worked. All she was left with was a sink full of water, feathers all over the bed, and books thrown against the wall in anger.

Damon had to be hearing everything she was doing. She was dreading the moment when he would come in and chastise her for being an incompetent witch. She knew it was coming. There was nothing Damon loved more than to make people feel like they were less than him.

But he never came. Days passed and they hardly saw each other. Bonnie had to go downstairs to eat, but that was the only time they would occasionally cross paths. As she already knew, Damon loved sitting in the front room drinking the days away. She never saw him anywhere else. That was why she was surprised to find him in the kitchen one morning, standing by the stove.

He was whistling some obnoxious tune as he flipped a pan. Sensing her presence, he turned around and gave her a sly grin. "What's up, Buttercup?" he called out to her before turning back to his cooking.

She hesitantly made her way into the kitchen. She really didn't feel like talking to him today. Or ever. "What are you doing?"

"I assume you know what it looks like when someone's making food. You know, being human and all," he said as he put a golden pancake on a plate. He grabbed a can of whipped cream and began spraying it on.

Bonnie's face turned sour. She was much more of a waffle person. "Is that for you?" She regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth. Of course it was for him. Damon never did anything for anyone unless he wanted something. And even then, he mostly just took what he wanted without anything in compensation.

"Please. Pancakes don't do it for me. O negative, now that's where its at," he smirked as he slid the plate towards her on the table.

She looked down at the neat stack of three pancakes. He had put blueberries in the formation of a smiley face, along with two lines of whipped cream to make fangs. She glanced up at Damon with narrowed eyes and pushed the plate away from her. "I don't like pancakes either."

"Oh, come on. That's just because you haven't had Damon Salvatore's vampcakes before."

"What-cakes?" This man was too much for her.

"You heard me. They're the best around. Go on, give them a try," he said, nudging the plate back to her.

She sighed. This wasn't too bad. Yes, he was being annoying, but she got out of making food for herself. And though she did prefer waffles, she couldn't resist good pancakes every once in a while. When she sat down, Damon handed her a fork and knife. His eyes twinkled when their gazes crossed paths and Bonnie was suddenly worried for a second. "You didn't, like, poison these or something, did you?"

Damon snorted. "Please. Like I would sabotage my chance at getting home. Now chop chop. Don't you have a big day ahead of you? You're going to need your energy to fail at spells again and then throw a hissy fit."

Angry, Bonnie dropped her utensils on the table and pushed the plate hard enough that it fell and shattered on the floor. "You know what, you try being me sometime. This is the third time I've died and you  _still_  don't appreciate everything I've done for you guys!" She was about to storm away when she caught the expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised and the smirk was wiped off his face.

"I just made you vampcakes. If that's not appreciation, then I don't know what is."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, Damon. I don't even know why I try with you. You've  _never_  cared about me before."

When she turned to leave, Damon grabbed her arm to make her face him again. "Are you forgetting who stayed behind in Nova Scotia to drag your ass back here? Or who negotiated with Qetsi-crazy to bring you back from the dead?"

"I'm pretty sure you did both of those to appease Elena," she bit back.

He took a step away and lowered his voice. "Not everything's about Elena, okay?"

Taking in his words, she raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd say that."

"Bon Bon, as much as it burns me to say this, you've kind of..." he waved his hand around, "grown on me. You might even be worth more than Donovan and Little Gilbert. Actually, I know you're worth more than them."

"I should probably tell you how much it disgusts me that you talk about us like we're possessions, not people."

"Possessions, people, same thing," he shrugged.

She observed him for a moment. He seemed sincere. She wondered if he always had a low regard for human life or if it was just something that vampirism brings out in you. "Either way, I'd appreciate it if you didn't rub it in that I don't have my powers right now."

"You can get them back?" His interest was piqued.

"I don't know," she closed her eyes, half in shame, half in exhaustion. "Just give me some time, okay? And stop being an ass."

"No promises," he said, and his smirk was back.

Forgetting about her grumbling stomach, Bonnie turned around and made her way back up to her room.

Could she get her magic back? She had been trying for months, ever since she came back from the dead and became the Anchor. Hell, even before that, when she had turned to Expression. She shivered when she thought of it. Never again will she tap into her dark side like that. Unless Damon really pissed her off. Then it might be worth it.

Instead of trying to burn the books or throwing them around the room, Bonnie decided to look at their titles. She wasn't expecting to find any grimoires, seeing as this house was owned by a pair of vampires, but she was hoping to at least take her mind off of everything. The strangest thing seemed to happen every day at the same time: an eclipse. The sky would get dark as the moon covered the sun for about a minute before it moved on. Since this was a daily occurrence, either this alternate reality they were in had a strange daily ritual or they were living the same day over and over and  _over_  again. Nothing made Bonnie feel more hopeless than the feeling that she wasn't accomplishing anything and instead was just repeated what she did the previous day.

The majority of the books were old, some even in different languages. But what really stood out to her was a copy of Interview With The Vampire. It definitely didn't fit the ambiance of the house and for that she was grateful. She didn't know how Stefan and Damon did it, living in this house for a bit over the course of decades. It didn't even feel like a home, more like an antique museum for the dark and the fancy.

Deciding to relive her earlier teen days when she used to love books like these, she curled up in an armchair and opened the book. The last time she had read it, vampires were only but a fantasy. Oh, how wrong she was. She had just gotten to the part where Louis finds young Claudia when the door opened.

Damon waltz in with a tray topped with pancakes and a glass of orange juice. "Oh wow," she breathed out as he set the tray down in front of her.

"I could hear your stomach growling from the other side of the house so I figured if I wanted to get some quiet..." he shrugged, shoving his hands into his dark jeans.

"Thanks, I guess. I still don't like pancakes," she said just before her belly grumbled again.

Damon smirked and began backing out of the room. "Oh, I think you'll enjoy these." And then he was gone.

Bonnie didn't know how to feel. While he gave the excuse of wanting some quiet, she couldn't help but think this was more of an act of compassion than a method to get his way. As she got ready to dig into the admittedly delicious smelling pancakes, a little voice in her head told her maybe Damon wasn't that bad.

Yeah, and maybe pigs could fly.


	3. Pact

Day 15

Damon didn't understand why Bonnie was being so prissy. Yeah, it completely sucked that they were stuck here (with each other no less) and didn't have any of their friends around. But let's be real. Who could Bonnie be missing, and who really missed Bonnie?

Jeremy was most likely at the top of both lists. Damon quickly wrote him off, though, because there were no redeeming qualities he saw in the boy other than riding the world of Kol Mikaelson a few years ago. He would never understand why everyone stuck their necks out for the wannabe vampire hunter, let alone why Bonnie would let him into her bed. Presumably. Damon didn't really know what was going on in that area, nor did he want to.

Caroline probably misses Bonnie. Damon had a little bit of respect for her, but it was usually drowned out by her constant disapproval of him. Maybe he deserved it a bit for treating her like a human bloodbag back in the day, but she just wouldn't let bygones be bygones.

Elena. Elena would be the last person to miss Bonnie deeply. Now that, he understood. Thinking about Elena was a whole can of worms that he didn't want to open at the moment.

All in all, he thought Bonnie should just cut her losses and stop acting like this was the worst thing she had ever experienced. No matter what he did, she always seemed pissed off. He made her breakfast every morning, but she would either roll her eyes, scoff, or leave the kitchen without a word.

What gives?

To be honest, he kind of missed talking to her. It got quite lonely when the only sounds in the house were his own thoughts echoing in his brain. So one day, he quietly opened her door to see what she was doing that was so much more important than being annoyed by him.

She was immersed in a book, her eyes squinting as she read line after line. Just when he was about to say something to break the silence, her face scrunched up in discontent and she set the book down. Instead of looking up at him like he thought she would, she raised her hand over the book and said, "Phasmatos incendia."

Nothing happened.

When he saw her face drop and her lip tremble, he decided it was time to cut in. "Whoa there. Trying to destroy books? How Fahrenheit 451 of you."

Her head whipped up to glare at him. "What do you want, Damon?" she almost growled out. He was sure the tears in her eyes were a mixture from her disappointment and anger.

"Were you just reading that? I'm sure it's around here somewhere. How ironic would it be for you to burn that book?"

"Yeah, well, obviously it's not working," she muttered, slamming the book shut before returning it to the shelf.

He watched her for a few moments, noticing the tension in her posture. "Is this what you do all day? Read and then try to burn my books?"

"Please. As if you actually read," she shook her head with a small smile. Why did it make him happy to see that?

"I've been around a lot longer than you have, missy. Just because my hobbies include drinking and Tri-Delts doesn't mean I don't pick up a book every once in a while."

"Whatever, Grandpa," she rolled her eyes.

Damon dropped himself in a plush chair before kicking his feet up. "So what's the dealio? No magic yet?" When Bonnie refused to make eye contact, he shrugged. "Is this going to be permanent? 'Cause I'd really like to get home to my girlfriend, or anyone that isn't you really-"

"I know that," Bonnie snapped at him, her face pinched in anger.

He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, how do you expect us to get out of here if you're a witch without her powers?"

"I don't know, Damon, just stop bothering me about it," she said lowly.

He stood up and stalked towards her. "I have to bother you about it because if we had it you're way, we'd be stuck here forever!"

"What are you talking about? I don't want to be here anymore than you do!"

"Yeah, well you're not actually doing anything helpful to get us back! If you really wanted to go home, if you really needed to, you would find a way. Lord knows how many times I've found a way to keep Elena safe when there was no way."

"This is completely different and you know that," she defended herself. "I can't control whether I have my powers or not. They're gone. I have no idea how to get them back, unless I tap into Expression again-"

"Great!" Damon said, clapping his hands together. "When do we start?"

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how dangerous, not to mention how wrong it is? They don't call it black magic for nothing," she chided him.

"I don't care, Bonnie! Just get me home!"

They glared at each other, anger rising in both of them until Bonnie dissolved into tears. Startled, Damon took a step back and watched the girl cry in front of him.

"Please, just leave me alone," she let out in a sob. "You always want something from me and I always bend over backwards to help only for it to bite me in the ass. If I could, I would help but I really don't know what to do."

The room was silent for a while except for Bonnie's struggled breaths. She looked up to see him staring at the wall pensively.

"So right now, you think the odds of us going home is close to zero?" he asked quietly.

She lowered her head in shame and nodded. Never before had she felt so bad about something that wasn't even her fault in the first place.

Damon had to take a bit to digest this. He was most likely never going home. He would never see anyone other than Bonnie again. Even putting aside Elena, there was still a huge hole in his heart. Alaric, his best friend who had just come back from the dead. Enzo, his oldest friend who had made the same journey. His brother, the person he has known the longest in this world. Hell, he'd even miss Busboy, Vampire Barbie, Wolfboy, and Little Gilbert.

Only Bonnie... Forever.

Could they die here? It wasn't so much a problem for Damon since he had already expected to live forever, but would Bonnie age even though they lived the same day over and over again? After sixty years, would he be all alone? Would he be forced to make the choice between living forever by himself or running a stake through his heart?

All of these thoughts went whirling through his mind while Bonnie tried to collect herself on the ground. It was almost unfathomable. But he couldn't push her anymore, that much he knew for sure. They were getting nowhere except closer to Bonnie giving up for good.

He was really starting to feel bad. Guilty for making her cry. Regretful for pushing her that far. He barely ever felt like this, let alone for Bonnie, so it blindsided him.

He found himself kneeling on the floor next to her. His hand was hovering above her shoulder until he finally convinced himself to lightly lay it down.

"Do you really think we're never going to get out of here," he asked her quietly.

Her body trembled as she cried a little harder. Her throat was completely choked up so she shook her head for an answer.

Damon stayed silent for a moment before he sighed. "How about this. I don't know how long we can live here, if anyone will come save us, or if something else will happen. I have some really expensive bourbon here, one that I've been saving for decades. If you ever can't take it anymore..." he paused and took a deep breath. "We can open it, finish the bottle... and then end it."

Bonnie's head jerked up as she looked at him in surprise. "Are you telling me I should kill myself," she hissed at him.

"No, I'm just saying we're never going to get out of here." Bonnie closed her eyes at his words. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to live the same day over for eternity. This is no way to live. And I know you hate me and would rather be stuck with almost anyone else, but this is what we're stuck with and it's either living with only each other forever or ending it once and for all."

Bonnie still shook her head and moved away from him. "I can't believe you're telling me to commit suicide."

"I'd be right there with you," Damon argued back. "Believe me when I say that there's nothing worse in the world than being alone. It will destroy you. It's better to have a backup plan now than to lose our minds later. Besides," he finally let out a little smirk, "that's probably the best bourbon in the world. If we're gonna go out, we might as well go out drunk on it."

"Whatever, Damon," she huffed as she tried to walk away but stopped when he caught her arm.

"Bonnie, I'm serious," he said somberly. "If I ever see you with the bottle or you see me with it, we know what it means. Okay?"

His eyes were burning into hers so she meekly nodded, not able to speak.

"For what it's worth," he continued as he let go of her arm. "I'm sorry about your magic. I wish there was some way for you to get it back."

Bonnie was completely stunned. The Damon she knew never apologized for anyone, let alone for something that wasn't his fault. What was going on?

"Me too," she whispered before hurrying out of the room.

Damon looked around, seeing books strewn across the floor. He silently placed them all back on their shelves as he thought. As much as he loved bourbon, he sincerely hoped they never had to open it.

Because despite what she might think, he didn't think it was too bad living with her. If he was being honest with himself, he probably had a soft spot for her. But he knew she didn't feel the same he needed a backup plan in case she ever got completely fed up with him.

He didn't know it, but a part of him changed that day. He unconsciously tried to make sure the pact would never get fulfilled.


End file.
